The Wonder of the Dark

There is something humbling about staring into the darkness before the sun comes up like I am right now. The blackness of the night has its own master and no matter how hard you stare or how loud you yell, it simply won’t be hurried. Even looking straight east from my window there is no hint that light will ever come and yet I know it will, but only when it is good and ready. It’s schedule is steady, constant and mindlessly consistent unlike mine which has me up hours before I normally get up. There is comfort in that.

I can shine a flashlight into the night, turn on the porch light or light the biggest bonfire you can imagine, but it won’t change the fact that the sky is still dark until it says otherwise. It will only be light again when the sun pops up over the horizon and proves that it’s still there as it has been all my life.

I like knowing that. Unlike the ancients who feared the dark, the blackness doesn’t scare me. In fact, it does the opposite; it lets me know who is really in charge and who isn’t. I’m not. Believe it or not, once you realize that and even more importantly, once you accept it, life gets a whole lot easier and a lot less frightening.

There is an old joke that the only thing better than owning a boat is knowing someone who owns a boat. The same statement can be made about the dark. The only thing better than being able to control the darkness is knowing someone who can control it. In my case I know someone who does control the darkness because He created it to begin with and then overcame it when it refused to acknowledge the superiority of the Creator over the creation.

Before the light there was darkness, but before the darkness there was God who created it all, including the darkness. All of that came before Man was created on the fifth day. If you still don’t understand where you fit in try a little experiment. Get up before the light comes tomorrow and stand at the window. Shout as loud as you can, “Let there be light,” and see what happens. Shout it as many times as you want and see if you can coax even the slightest hint of daylight to show itself.

Then go read Genesis 1, verse 3. God didn’t shout and he didn’t repeat himself. He didn’t know, as we do now that daylight will come because it never had before. But God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. It was really that simple for Him. It’s still not light outside where I live because it isn’t time for it to be yet. God said so and I might as well make coffee and accept it. The morning will be a lot less frustrating for me that way.